Flame
by Malia Horne
Summary: What happens when the bounty is Jet's first love, Ed comes of age and Spike and Faye discover they've only been wounding themselves? (R for language)
1. Sloshed Nights

The characters of Cowboy Bebop aren't owned by me, but I hope you like my story! Kudos in advance to those that review!  
  
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Chapter 1: Sloshed Nights  
  
"Spike!"  
  
"Mmm"  
  
"Spike!!"  
  
"Mmm??"  
  
"SPIKE!"  
  
"What, okay? I'm trying to sleep!"  
"Fridge! Leftovers! Gone!" The shrill voice got louder as its owner came into the living room, punctuating the last word with a dirty spoon thrown at the lanky man on the sofa. It bounced off his bare chest, still slick form his Jeet Kun Do training.  
"Faye, an active person needs to eat a lot to regain the calories they burn" Spike ran his fingers through his unruly green mop and rolled away from Faye's highly disgruntled expression.  
"Spike!" she yelled, stomping her foot, "You sleep all damn day, train for two hours, and then eat ALL the food I've been looking forward to all day. When I was out. Working."  
He burped. "What's gone is gone"  
She growled and went into the pantry, re-emerging with a large dusty can of soup and a hasty apology to the irate Jet who caught her red-handed.  
"And that's the last one you get until we catch a bounty big enough to pay for a proper re-stocking!" The bearded face appeared at the pantry door, flushed from the heat of the kitchen.  
Faye sat down on the floor with a can opener and proceeded to pry open the dented can.  
She spooned a lumpy, thick portion out and grimaced. "Eugh. Even Ein's food is more appetizing than this is."  
She brusquely dumped the spoon in the can again and sighed. No dinner then. "Well, helps maintain the figure I guess" she thought to herself.  
A long thin arm snaked onto the coffee table and removed the can.   
*SLUURP*  
-CLANK-  
"Always a gentleman, Spike, always a gentleman, willing to help a lady out with her problems."   
"Mrph"  
Faye threw the nearest catalogue she could find at Spike's head. He gave her the bird, and proceeded to put the magazine over his face to block out the offending light.  
  
Damn his handsome face. If only his personality could be as attractive as his wiry frame. . .and those liquid eyes. . . Faye shook herself hard mentally and reminded herself of what a jerk he always was to her. Oh sure, if you could keep him quiet he might be fuckbuddy material, but nothing resembling the solid relationship that she craved from someone right now.  
Heaving her way off the floor, suddenly depressed, and still hungry, she lurched her way to her hiding spot in the supply room with her secret stash of "Comfort Juice" as she liked to call her bottle of scotch.  
  
— Three Hours Later —  
  
"Shpike"   
An uneven click of heels woke the bounty hunter from a favorable dream about an immense lobster drenched in melted butter.   
"Whrra?" he mumbled sleepily, still trying to grasp his dream fork.   
"Shpike, I don't love yoosh. Choo are ferry acktracktivf, but shoo are a combleeeet ash-hole." And with these remarks said, Faye collapsed noisily onto the floor and began snoring uproriously.   
"Oh that's rich." Spike murmured before putting his headphones and rolling over to continue a culinary fantasy in progress.  
  
* * *  
"Faye-Fayeeeee"  
"Arf!"  
"Oh god," Faye moaned. She oozed her way to a sitting position and buried her throbbing head in cigarette-and-scotch scented hands. Oh god, I slept on the floor in the living room. I hope I didn't do anything stupid or profess my undying love loudly to Jet's bonsai or something. I must've had a third of that bottle. . .  
"Faye-Faye!" Ed bring food from Jet-Person! He says you sleep funny and snore loud like Ein! And you make umble-grumble-goose sounds!  
The little redhead with faithful superdog in tow set a bowl of some mushy gruel by Faye's knee. She groaned and pushed it away. _How does Spike make his "Prairie Oyster" hangover cure anyway?_ She vowed that if she found out, she'd be civil to him for at least a day. Maybe even three if he made it for her.  
Now, if she could only get up. . .  
  
"And I emerge, like the Adonis of Venus!" came the drawl as Spike emerged from the shower, towel wrapped around him. He sauntered to the living room, to perch upon the arm of the sofa, gazing at Faye's miserable countenance, "Ah, our Sleeping Beauty has awoken, perhaps to gaze upon her prince?" He had the look in his eyes that told Faye she did something unforgivably stupid the night before.  
"Spike, fuck off and make me that magical hangover cure of yours. Upon my word of honor I will not harass you for a whole day if you do."  
"What, and deprive you of the sight of my splendid figure?" He smirked and lit a cigarette.  
"Ed, please tell that baka that as soon as I can get up I will emasculate him."  
"Promises, promises." he murmured.  
"Spike-person!" Ed bounced up to him and held a jaunty mock salute, pleased with a new game to play, "Faye-Faye says —"  
" — I heard her, Ed. Um, go away and eat something."  
"Okaaaaaaaay!" she sang out, bouncing off of any available surface as she careened towards the kitchen in her mad quest for food.  
Spike exhaled slowly, "Boy, were you trashed last night. What special occasion did I miss? The anniversary of your first roll in the hay?"  
"Augh! You insensitive ass! Go away and let me be hungover in peace!"  
"But you said you liked me. You told me I was hot." He pretended to pout prettily, dodging the bowl of goop Faye threw at his head. Chuckling, he got up and went to get dressed.  
_Did I really say something like that? Jesus, I must've been really drunk. I don't even remember coming in here. Oh god, I can't deal with something like this now._  
And with a sigh, she crawled her way to standing with the aid of the groady yellow couch Spike so often called 'home' and trudged to her bedroom.  
  
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Author's notes! My first fanfic on this website, and my first CB fanfic. Takes place sometime during the series....anytime you want. May be a bit OOC, but that's why it's a fanfic, isn't it?! Chapter 2 will be coming soon-ish. Just gotta type it in my free time (heh heh ;p)  
Thanks again,  
- me  



	2. Word Dances

The characters of Cowboy Bebop aren't owned by me, but I hope you like my story! Kudos in advance to those that review!  
  
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Chapter 2: Word Dances  
  
Spike scratched his head furtively as he stood beneath the blast of hot water coming from the showerhead. Did Faye really find him attractive? Or was that just a drunken slur that meant nothing? He looked down at himself and traced his thin fingers over the myriad of small scars and puckered bullet wounds that graced his tanned skin. Sighing, he shook his head, spraying droplets from his heavy hair; nobody could find someone as scarred, physically and emotionally, as he was, attractive. _She must've drunk a helluva lot. _He scrubbed hard at his chest with the soap, willing himself to enjoy the burning in his muscles from an especially long Jeet Kun Do session. He turned up the shower's hot water faucet, letting the scalding droplets run down his back in an attempt to wash away his pain. It helped him forget the anguish in his heart.  
  
"Jet person!! Bang bang show show!!" Ed took her Tomato off her head and pranced around with it in glee, while Ein barked, running in circles around her. Jet slumped onto the couch, pulling off his apron and dust mask he had been wearing to clean out some of the filthier corners of the Bebop. He lit a cigarette and turned the volume up on the staticky little screen to see Punch and Judy greet the cowboys of the solar system and get to work, presenting bounties under Jet's weary gaze. Most of the bounties were careless, small-time gangsters trying to make a name for themselves, unsuccessfully. Their faces and id numbers with bounty rewards flashed by in a stream of color and sound, as he sat, uncaring on the tattered yellow sofa. Suddenly he sat upright. "No. That's impossible. She wouldn't."  
"And she's got a real nice bounty, mi amigos! 1.3 million woolongs! Go get 'em cowboys, and we'll see you next time!"  
Jet absently flicked off the TV and stared at the blank screen. Minutes passed in silence. Finally he stood up from the couch. "Ed?"  
"Meeyaaaa?" Ed murmured from under her Tomato as she dozed off on Ein, apparently spent from her earlier frolicking.  
"Ed, can you find information about an ex-ISSP special agent, Petria Malnakov? See if you can figure out if she retired or was kicked out, and for what if she was. Also, find out where's she been, since she left."  
"Ed soooo empty! Like old balloon-baboon!"  
Jet smiled absently at the girl. "All right, I was planning on starting on dinner soon anyway." He turned and started to walk up the stairs to the kitchen, encountering a groggy Faye, and a bored looking Spike. "You two all right? I heard bickering earlier."  
They both shrugged.  
"What's Ed working on so furiously?" Spike mumbled around a bent cigarette he fished out of his pocket, lighting it as he looked at Jet's paler than normal face. He paused momentarily, mid-drag, then asked, "Hey, are you okay? You're not sick or anything?"  
"I-I'm fine." Jet ran his hand over his head, unwittingly telling Spike that something was bothering him. "Ed's working on a . . . personal thing" he finished.   
Spike gave him a sideways look. "What do you mean personal?"  
"Someone I knew once. She's a bounty now. A big one. 1.3 million woolongs.  
Spike whistled appreciatively. "Well, hey, I could do some nice upgrades on my Swordfish with that kind of cash."  
Jet smiled weakly. "Spike, you should find a real woman that can suck your cash, instead of spending all your time and money on that red hussy in the hangar."  
"Hah. Right. Spike couldn't do that if he tried. His ego would knock any woman over, and he acts like a prick to any human who comes within five feet of him. And he's too lazy to catch any bounties," Faye remarked, smirking. "Well, I'm not against turning anyone in, if the price is that high. I'll do it."  
Jet shot her a killer look and turned to the kitchen, while Spike strolled over to the Tomato, which held Ed in thrall, her green glasses adding to the sense of addled youth Ed perpetually had about her. His eyes scanned the screen as rapidly as they could, to follow the developments. "Faye," he remarked, after some time, not looking at her. "You're really not one to talk about picking up members of the opposite sex. You wear that yellow thing everywhere, and when's the last time it snagged you a man? Oh yes, Blue Crow." With those remarks, Spike sloped off to the sofa and lied down, covering his face with his arm.  
"Ooooh, Spike!" was the most retaliatory remark Faye could come up with as she balled her hands into fists, willing herself not to break his nose, his nice, pointy nose, right above those soft...she felt herself relaxing as she admired him on the sofa. Then she remembered his stinging remark and threw all of the utensils at him, allowing them to scatter around on the floor in the aftermath. They clattered harmlessly off his elbow as they fell to the floor. Spike took his arm off his face, smiled at her wryly, and put a magazine over his face, soon beginning to snore softly.  
Faye snorted and lit a cigarette. She turned to stand beside Ed as the lithe redhead tack-tacked her way into the ISSP database.  


_--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
It's funny how we've come together again. Ed's almost eighteen and still acts as crazy as always. Spike? He hasn't changed at all outwardly. But I can sense that a little something died with him before he came back. And Jet. Jet, my best friend, my brother, my confidante. I think I probably would've done myself in that day, had it not been for him.  
_

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___ ****__"God, it's hot."   
"Io is always hot though."   
"I guess. I suppose the volcanos lend a special air to your emotions every time you come here. Make you a little wilder."  
_**Jet chuckled quietly. ****_"And are you so much wilder, Faye Valentine? After all this time?"  
__"Oh, I suppose not."_ ****Faye smiled back at him. She could see herself shining in his clear blue eyes. She looked younger than she felt, and hoped Jet wouldn't notice the dullness that had crept into her eyes slowly after Spike had left the BeBop to go finish his fight. But he did, damn him. He always did. With a sad frown on his face, he reached out and stroked her hair. **_**  
**__**"Is everything so bad? I heard you were doing well on a casino fraud bounty circuit."****  
"Everything has been bad since everyone left. Spike was the kind of mystery glue that held us together. His enigma made us stay. When he went. . . we all drifted apart. I just think I've drifted too far. I hope you won't hate me for this."**_****** F************aye slowly pulled a case out of her coat pocket, and snapped it open, revealing a needle full of a clear substance.**_**********  
******__"Faye, what is that?"  
"Muscle relaxant. It'll slowly put me to sleep, then stop my heart. Stop my heart from beating my memories around me. Stop me from remembering that I have no home, that I've become the Romani I told you I was."  
"Faye. Do you know why I'm here?"  
"You're here to tell me that Spike and Ed and Ein are back, and that dinner's been ready for an hour, where the hell have you been?" _**************Faye turned to Jet with tears shimmering in her eyes. She smiled a sad, wry smile at him and shook her head, **_****************__"No. I know that I'm not going to heal over this one. I have accepted that I cannot accept my past."  
_**************Jet caught her hand holding the needle gently as she put it up to her arm.**_************__"Don't. I can't tell you the fairy tale that everyone is back on the BeBop and everything is alright, and expect you to believe it. But I can tell it to you, right?"_**_  
_********************Faye sunk to her knees with a sobbing gasp. **_****************__"Please. Stop. I don't want the dream that Spike lived. I don't want to think that I've been living in a dream that's never ending. I know,"_ she shuddered, gasping for breath in between sobs, _"I know--he's gone. He was the straw that broke the camel's back as far as I'm concerned. I want to be lost before I lose anyone else."  
"Faye."_ ******************His voice was so gentle and low.**_******************  
**__**"I made my decision."  
"Faye. It's not a lie. Not a whole truth though. I heard from Spike a week ago. Nothing big, just a 'yo' from out of the blue.I don't know where he is or what he's doing, but he's alive. Ed and Ein have been back for a couple of months now. Ed's dad kept abandoning her, so when I stopped off at Earth, she traipsed aboard again, like nothing ever happened. Faye,"**_******************************Jet held her tear streaked face up to look her in the eye, **_**************************"I want my family back together. One dysfunctional family."  
**_**************************Faye sobbed uncontrollably, she cried into the dust for a youth lost, lies told, and friends rediscovered. Finally, spent, she looked up. **_**************************"As long as we're not having bell peppers or bean sprouts for dinner."  
**_**************************Jet smiled weakly,**_************************** "That's my girl."  
**_**************************************---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**___************__**************************  
**_And that's the way it's been. That's the way it's been since. We're a fucked up family, sure, but a family of sorts.  
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_

"Faye-Faye! Bounty lady have pretty hair! It even Ed colored! Hair, spare, Ed want pears!" she crooned, flapping her arms like some deranged flightless bird.  
Snapped back to reality, Faye leaned as close to the screen of the Tomato as she dared without getting hit by the flailing limbs of the odd child. Ed had under appraised this woman. She wasn't just pretty, she was stunning. Her hair was red, yes, but a more strikingly elegant auburn than Ed's shock of orange. Her eyes were a dark blue, almost to the point of violet. She looked like a model, or would have if she didn't have the cold-steel look of a murderer in her eyes.  
Suddenly, Faye was jerked upright in attention, by the sound of clattering dishes in the kitchen, followed by a string of nearly unintelligible curses, which Ed repeated in singsong. It was very unlike Jet to get flustered in the kitchen. Usually cooking relaxed him, having a similarly calming effect as his bonsai. Something was up, and Faye suspected it had something to do with the woman Ed had shown her.  
"Shit, too much ginger! What? I'm busy. What do you want?" Jet shoved his way past her with a pan to dump some unidentifiable vegetables into it. He kept his distressed countenance away from her as he moved from the stove to the cutting board and back.  
"Ah yes, busy with the tri-daily ritual of making odd, inedible fry ups. No matter though. So who's the broad?" Faye leant against the doorjamb, waiting to see what response her offhand comment elicited.  
"What?!" Enraged, Jet turned on her like a bull. He saw her casually leaning against the doorway, cigarette in hand, which made him even angrier.  
"So you do know her." She smiled and took a pull of her cigarette contentedly.  
"Yes," he said curtly as he snatched the cigarette from her fingers and took a long drag, exhaling it in one long sigh. "But I'd care to keep such gossip fodder to myself if you so please. Now get out of my kitchen!" He flicked the half smoked cigarette to the ground and stomped on it emphatically.  
Faye threw up her arms and went to go read, perched on the coffee table, attempting to ignore the odd singing that constantly spewed from Ed's corner near the stairs.  
* * *  
  
Spike was flying. Or falling. He couldn't decide. The swordfish was moving along fine, but he couldn't control it. She wouldn't respond to him. Suddenly it flipped into a barrel roll and then careened into a nose dive. Frantically Spike searched for what, or who, was controlling his sleek racer. At last, on the ground he spotted a hooded figure with a familiar remote control**********************************. **_Ed. I'm safe_.  
The hooded figure looked up.  
  
Vicious  
  
He smiled and pointed as he brought the Swordfish out of it's dive, his long digit pointing in the direction of the jet's nose. Spike looked up and followed the finger in it's path as the red fighter skimmed the ground. Someone running. That run was familiar. Julia. His heart raced. What's happening to me? Suddenly he realized.   
Vicious was going to use him, just as he had used everyone else.  
"Julia!" Spike screamed as the jet ate away the distance between the two figures, each frantic with fear. The Swordfish swooped towards Julia on the ground, aiming to crush her.  
"JULIA!"  
  
With the sound of the crash still resounding in his head, Spike jerked awake off the couch, gasping. He was sweating, and a single tear ran down his face.********************************_Julia**********************************.**_**********************************  
  
**"Must've been quite a dream, cowboy," said a familiar voice through the darkness. Spike realized he slept through the entire evening, including dinner.  
"Go away Faye, I don't want to talk to you now. I usually don't mind the inane, occasionally witty banter you keep up with, just...not now." He was too tired and shaken to even attempt being aloof and sarcastic.  
Faye was shocked at the gentleness of his voice and realized something had shaken him horribly in his nightmare. She logically turned to what would have hurt him this much. "What happened to her?"  
  
"She's gone."  
  
"I meant in the dream."  
  
"Faye, just leave."  
  
"Fine, you don't need to get uppity on me and be a jerk about it!"  
  
"I'm not," he replied, sighing quietly. "I just don't care to share painful experiences with heartless people, especially not at some ungodly hour of the night."  
  
Faye smiled to herself in the darkness. He was feeling better if he could snap at her like that. She got up to leave, then turned and walked to him.  
  
"What now? You're not drunk again, are you? I'm not kissing you."  
  
"Spike."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Shut the hell up for one second." Faye paused, trying to form her words in a way that wouldn't sound too odd for her. "I-I envy her."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Julia. I wish I had someone like you who loved me. I wish I remember being loved. I don't even know what it feels like to be loved by a parent. Not anymore."  
  
"Oh. I-"  
  
"For once, our sharp-tongued viper is baffled for words. Spike, don't say anything."  
  
"I wasn't. I-"   
  
"What?"  
  
"I'm sorry I woke you up," he finished lamely.  
  
Faye eyeballed him suspiciously. He must be taking this harder than she'd thought. Never before had an apology come from Spike Spiegel to Faye Valentine. She shook her head and snorted derisively before lighting a cigarette. "You want one?"

"Sure."  
  
"Get one yourself, cowboy." She tossed the lighter to him.  
  
"Go to hell, Faye."  
  
"I already live here, Spike," she said, sweetly.  
  
"Ah. Oh yes, remind me in the morning to tell you to go fuck yourself." He rolled over and pretended to go to sleep, smelling the spicy smoke of Faye's cigarette as she sat on the stairs, smiling quietly into the darkness.  
Finally, he heard Faye get up to go. She spoke softly, thinking him asleep, "Oh, Spike. I hope someday you'll heal from the hurt she caused you. I hope you find someone to heal that hole in your heart," Spike almost sat up, shocked at her sympathetic, almost sad tone. Her voice hardened and she went on. "God knows you could use a woman to soften you up. If only you could see that you're the biggest asshole to ever roam the solar system. If you weren't such a jackass, I'd have probably fallen for you by now. Thank god I didn't. Baka." She softly clicked her way up the stairs and down the hallway to her room.  
Spike smiled softly into the sofa cushions at the curious idea that perhaps Faye did have a heart after all, and went back to sleep.  
  
Ein snored.  
  
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Author's notes! Well, there's Chapter 2! So much longer!   
Gracias to reviews, and mine beta reader, Lady Athena.  
Chapter three is getting harder to write as I have hyoooj amounts of homework. Ah, college!  
Anyhoo, thanks in advance for reviews!  
Cheers,  
Malia_____************__************************************__**************************  
**_


	3. The Party of Pepelu

The characters of Cowboy Bebop aren't owned by me, but I hope you like my story! Kudos in advance to those that review!  
  
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Chapter Three: The Party of Pepelu  
  
"Petria Malnakov. ISSP Special Agent #138, Test Subject #4. Time of service: 15 years. Reason for Dismissal: FILE LOST. Hm. Figures." Spike rubbed the back of his head thoughtfully and absentmindedly flicked cigarette ash onto his rapidly cooling 'lunch'. Jet hadn't offered to tell them what it was, and the crew of the Bebop didn't really wish to know anyway. Just so long as it was filling.  
"Why is there a bounty on her anyway?" Faye asked around a mouth of indescribable something. She grimaced and swallowed rapidly.  
"She's sold several minor state secrets to assorted syndicates; Blue Snake, Yellow Rat, Red Dragon, among others." Jet ticked the names off his fingers casually, failing to notice Spike stiffen. "But that is something small among many other things." He glanced at Spike waiting for a response, and found his partner glaring at the floor, brow furrowed and eyes dark in an angry contemplation.  
"Ey! Spike! If you don't want one of our resident bottomless pits to consume your portion of lunch, then you'd better do something about it soon," Jet warned, seeing Ein slyly sneak towards the table. Disappointed to be caught, Ein turned his nose up innocently, and traipsed out of the room. Spike snapped out of his reverie and grinned sheepishly before picking up his plate. He scraped the contents off into his mouth with four large scoops.  
Faye threw him a disgusted look before starting to eat more primly than either Jet or Spike had ever seen before. They both smirked at it, lit a cigarette, and went back to the contemplation of data that Ed's Tomato had brought them.  
  
But the longer he stared, the less Spike understood. She had a distinguished career. Petria was, " a star. Some of her finest work was during the Titan Wars. She was a cybernetically enhanced super-spy; one of the first that the ISSP had developed. Hence the test number. Then, out of nowhere, she killed two ISSP informants, and had been on the run since. No bounty had been issued due to the secretive nature of the ISSP. But when three more spies were killed after being sent after her, the ISSP posted the bounty."  
"And I loved her," Jet finished with a sigh. "My pine marten." Jet inhaled deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose to try and keep his face from running off with his emotions.  
"I never knew what had happened. Alisa, I loved her yes, but not in the same way. Petria had, that spark that just infects a man from within. She had a vitality that I was drawn to." Jet paused to glance knowingly at Spike who returned his gaze evenly. He continued, "I met her about a month after I had joined the force. She was originally from Mars, thus making her a little homesick. She looked so fragile and scared." Jet smiled sadly and shook his head, before continuing, "And I spilled evidence all over her. Illegally bred fish eggs from Earth. I guess I was paying more attention to her than my feet. I took her to the shooting range to apologize; what a romantic I was, right?"   
Jet ran his hand over his head, his face softening a little, and his eyes beginning to gleam with tears. "We were together for seven years before she disappeared. Alisa was sweet and comforting to me, and damn it, I was going to marry her and bury my past. But then she left too. And now my little pine marten is back from the dead..." Jet trailed off quietly, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes while Spike and Faye pretended not to notice. He stood up and mechanically walked up the stairs to his bonsai room, the latch clicking behind him as Spike and Faye stared openmouthed at the man who they considered a pillar of strength and stability.   
Now he had just spilled his guts to them. This usually unshakeable man had left them so astonished at the tide of emotions, that all they could do was sit in a stunned silence. Faye put her plate down and lit a cigarette, silently handing the lighter to Spike, who took it without a word or a glance, and proceeded to light the wrong end of his own cigarette. Faye watched amusedly, as he spat tobacco and wrinkled his nose at the smell of burning fiberglass.  
"You seem distracted," she said lazily.  
"And you seem friendly. Neither of which are true," he said pointedly, tossing the destroyed cigarette and lighting a new one.  
Faye opened her mouth to make another quip, but before she could, a voice rang out over the PA system of the ship, "Ed is having a party, because today is Ed's birthday! Everyone is invited!"  
Faye groaned inwardly. She recalled the last two years that Edward had remembered her birthday. Or thought she did. The first year, she had projected holographic plants and animals, complete with sounds, all over the ship. She had put on a crown and proceeded to stalk through the ship, claiming it was her jungle for the day.  
The second year, Ed had jimmied the flight plans and taken the entire crew (highly grudgingly) to Earth for a picnic in the ramshackle, little clutter box house, Ed had used to reside in.  
"Ed has decided that for her birthday, everyone will dance! Dancy-pants!" her voice on the PA ended with a crazed giggle and a faint 'Arf!'.  
"Dancing?" Spike looked horrified. "What could Ed be thinking of?" His bewildered musings were interrupted by a clatter from the hallway. Suddenly, Spike and Faye were struck by a vision.  
Ed emerged, wearing an odd assortment of jewelry and a hodgepodge of mismatched clothing that clung to her tall frame oddly, while her fingers and toes were each painted a different shocking color. Most incredible of all though was her hair. With some unknown skill, Ed had managed to dye her hair an electric blue, and spike it. With her most maniacal toothy grin she bounded to Faye and snapped to salute. "Edward Wong Hau Pepelu Tivrusky the Fourth wishes to recruit Faye-Faye Valentine to help her get ready for her birthday!"  
Faye sputtered incoherently for a bit before gasping out a, "Ready? Wha-? Whe-?" before lapsing into a stunned silence.  
Spike coughed delicately. "Um, Ed...you, er, look...different."  
Edward turned and wrapped herself happily around Spike's body. "Thank you Spike-person! Ed likes green and purple hair too, but they were already taken!" As if to prove her point she put both hands into Spike's unruly hair and rubbed vigorously for a moment before launching herself off the sofa to stand in front of a still speechless Faye.  
"Edward has been saving her allowance for over a year to take Bebop-bebop to dance!"  
Finally brought back to the reality of the situation, Faye sighed heavily. It seemed that nothing would please Ed other than having Faye help her get gussied up for, she shuddered at the thought, a night out on the town.  
"Ed will spare no expense! Tonight Edward Wong Hau Pepelu Tivrusky the Fourth becomes grown-upidy and can be called Ed-person! Ed-ward will try drinks! Edward will walk like Faye-Faye," she said, dramatically draping herself over a chair briefly before leaping up to continue her narrative, "Edward may try one of Spike-person's smelly cigaretty sticks, and Ed-" she cut off suddenly, looking scared.  
"Edward," she continued quietly, "may want to kiss a boy." She looked scandalized that such a thing had come out of her mouth, and positively horrified when Faye began to laugh.  
"Oh, Ed, you're eighteen! Don't worry, it's part of growing up. But your list seems a little too-intensive for one night. Let's see how it goes, kiddo." Faye smiled bemusedly at the still scandalized Ed, while Spike glanced back at the figure of Jet who had emerged quietly from his bonsai sanctuary halfway through Ed's speech. After a while Spike realized what the half-pleased, half-sad look on Jet's face meant. _The look of a father who thinks he's losing his little girl to the big bad world._  
  
_Wish I'd had someone like that to look at me knowingly on my eighteenth birthday._  
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**_"OI! KID!"_ came the roar from across the room._  
"I'm not a kid, alright."_ The tall young man turned around to face the drunkard at the bar. _"I'm no longer a child. So stop treating me like one."_ Two deep brown eyes peered into a pair of watery blue ones.  
_"Yea? Well you still belong to me, bucko. I raised you, and cared for you, and now you're in my debt."  
"Debt? Hardly, old man. You took me in from the orphanage so you could get a steady welfare check. As soon as I was old enough to do anything you freeloaded off me. You're the one who's in debt old man. You owe me a childhood."  
"I don't owe you shit! I took care of you, God damn it!"  
"No. You took care of yourself by keeping me. And now I'm free. Free to live this crazy dream they call life."_ The young man turned from the smoky bar and started to head for the door. A lead slug buried itself into the doorjamb to his right.  
_"Spike, you crazy little shit, you'd better get back here!"_  
Spike kept walking. One foot in front of another. In front of another. Out into a cool, rusty night in Tharsis. It was June 26th, 2062. He was finally eighteen. In his mind, that equation added up to one word. Freedom.  
A scuffling noise behind him spun him around. _ "Kenjo. Don't follow me. I don't want you in my life anymore,"_ he said, calmly. The tone of his voice was cool and unaffected. He was free, after all. The older man, stinking of stale beer and whisky staggered up to him, waving a pistol in his face. _"Spike, you ingrate, I gave you a fucking home. Now fucking stay in that home I gave you!"  
"You never gave me a home. You gave me a prison." _Spike yanked the pistol out of Kenjo's grasp and hit him over the back of the head. _"Fucking drunk. Sleep that off and realize how much you needed me."_   
The tall, thin young man walked off slowly towards the spaceport, examining the pistol he had taken from his adopter. _"Jericho 941. How the fuck did the old man ever afford something like this?"_ he pondered, taking out a pack of cigarettes and lighting one deftly. _"Doesn't matter if the old asshole was a fucking arms dealer or a circus clown. Now I can finally begin my dream."_**  
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Spike narrowed his eyes in remembrance. Suddenly he sat up. _My god. I'm 32._ He chuckled wryly and smiled thoughtfully to himself. _Well, better get going on my mid-life crisis._ He snorted and picked up the ashtray, grinding the remains of his cigarette into it.  
  
This was going to be quite a night.  
  
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Author's Notes: I wrote part of, and typed all of this thing in a massive bout of insomnia! Yay! (Now, Chinese class, strung out from sleep-deprivation. Fun.)  
Also, to you all . . .I redid Chapter Two because I wasn't happy with my plot plan, and now the story is set after Session 26. It'll all get explained, don't worry!  
Gracias again to mine reviewers, especially those who sympathize with my homework predicament ;).  
Now to food, and perhaps the start of Chapter FOUR! (ps. I have no idea how many chapters this story will take -- I write what comes to me.)  
Cheers,  
Malia!


	4. Skip, Shuffle, Switch

As always, although I much wish that I did, I do not own Cowboy Bebop's characters, nor will I ever (although I own the DVDs). Hope you like my story, which I do own!  
  
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Chapter 4: Skip, Shuffle, Switch.  
  
"Ed cannot feel faaaace." The lanky redhead stumbled and giggled her way down the street, curiously eyeballing the burning stump of a cigarette in her fingers before taking a drag off it.  
"Ey, Spike. How much did she drink?"  
"A fuzzy navel, half a daiquiri, and I don't know what."  
"Did you give her a cigarette?"  
"No, she pick pocketed me...of course I did. She asked."  
"Spike, she's drunk. Don't get her started."  
"It won't hurt her, if it's one night."  
"Hmph."  
"Oh, hmph yourself old man. Let the kid have fun on her birthday." Spike smiled quietly. Ed hadn't changed much in the time since he'd returned to the Bebop. She was a little quieter, a little more thoughtful, but not that much. He was just glad she didn't howl out songs in the middle of the night anymore. God, he was thankful for teenage hormones making her sleep late into the afternoon like a regular human being. In fact...she turned out to be a pretty good kid. Sure, far, FAR odder than most, but she was basically like an insane little sister. God, I'm turning into a sappy old man. Since when have I considered anyone to be family?   
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**_"Yo." "Who is this?" _ Jet squinted suspiciously at the comm. whoever it was they sounded a lot like a dead man. Too bad it was dark and he couldn't see them.  
_"What, old man, don't you know me?"_ A sideways smile came into view, along with a pointed nose and some fuzzy greenish hair.  
_"SPIKE?! Jesus. Weren't you supposed to go off and...die? Where the fuck have you been for two years, while we MOURNED you?"_ Jet knew he shouldn't be angry with Spike for surviving, but dammit, Spike should've said something sooner.  
_"I've been in and out of a coma, been beaten up, been beating people up, and generally causing trouble on my way to find you. Creditors are such bastards. Now I know why Faye went on the run."_ The 'man-who-should-be-a-ghost' scratched the back of his head, and lit a cigarette. _"How is our shrew, anyway?"_  
_"Bitchy. She's been much quieter since you left. It shook her up bad. She recovered fast though. Faster than me, but you knew me longer."_ Jet shook his head, the shock of it all finally hitting him. _"FUCK, Spike. Just...FUCK! This is so goddamn surreal. I'm not even sure I'm not making this shit up to try and bring you back to life."_ Jet ran his hand over his head and leaned away from the screen.  
_"Who're you yelling at on the comm?"_ Faye asked, sauntering into the room, tailed by Ed and a weary looking Ein.  
_"You'll never believe me."_  
_"Right. So Spike's on."   
"Got it in one."  
"You're fucking me."  
"Thankfully, no."  
"Shut your face, old man. Hey, lunkhead!"_ she called teasingly, not believing Jet.  
_"Shrew-woman!"_ Spike called, hearing her voice.  
_"Told you it was Spike. The little shit's still up and running."  
"I'm going to kill him. I'm going to make sure he's dead. This time, he will die."_ Faye's eyebrow twitched ominously.  
_"SPIKE PERSON IS OKAY!" _Ed jubilantly threw Ein up into the air, who whined at his treatment.  
Jet turned back to the comm. _"Well, you sure made a grand fucking entrance, didn't you. What are you coming back to the living for?"_  
_"A bounty too big for my own mitts for once."_  
Jet sighed. It looked like the Bebop was back in business.  
Oh sure, it took a while for everything to sink in. Faye yelled and screamed and cried and threw stuff, while Jet sniffled and growled and furtively trimmed his bonsai to little stumps as soon as Spike stepped on board, but he didn't care. He had his room back (Jet never had the heart to get rid of everything, minus what random garbage was lurking in there, and some stashed alcohol and ramen), and he had a verbal sparring partner again; he realized he missed those battles. Ed was just as insane, but for once, he kind of liked it. He realized that she kept him on his toes. Ein...well he still didn't like dogs. The food was free, the couch was squishy, and the Bebop was finally whole again. He realized that life wasn't so bad after all. Dreaming was the hard part.  
_"You ever going to tell us the whole story?"_ Faye asked him one evening, after a particularly satisfying round of bloodletting.  
_"You ever going to wear normal clothing?"_  
_"Bastard."_**  
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Jet carried a now unconscious Ed back to the Hammerhead as Spike and Faye slowly wove their way back to their respective vehicles.  
"Fshooo. I didn't know Ed had enough money to get _me_ drunk." Spike sat down next to the landing gear of the Swordfish and lit a cigarette.   
"I thought you hated kids." Faye smirked through her patented "Scotch-vision". She'd never gotten drunk with Spike.   
"I do normally, but Ed never really was a kid. She was more like an entity stuck in a kid's body." Spike waved his hands drunkenly to attempt to illustrate his point.  
"Lunkhead, you're drunk. Shut up."  
"Make me."  
"Fuck you."  
"You wish."  
"Alright, Spiegel, you win this round." Faye sat next to him on the ground and lit a cigarette.  
"You know, you're pretty funny when you're drunk."  
"Astute, Spike. Very astute." Faye realized quickly that Spike was far, far drunker than she was. _This could get amusing.  
_"Fayeee..." Spike whined drunkenly  
"Mm." Faye felt herself on the verge of dozing off next to Spike's swaying figure.  
"Faye, why do we always fight with each other so meanly? I like you as a pershon. But you alwaysh fight so mean. You always take stabs at my past, and it hurts me. I mean, what I did in the past was my past, not your past, but my past. I'm comfortable leaving that alone. I'll alwaysh love Julia in my own way," Spike said, starting to look sulky, "but I can't do anything for a dead woman. She's a losht part of my soul." He looked up, his alcoholic haze quickly erasing the pain in his eyes, "But you, you're fun to harassh. I should like you more."  
Faye giggled. "Spike...stop while you're behind." Spike was surprisingly human and emotional when drunk. _We should do this more often._  
"You know," Spike began to mumble, "you actually look kind of pretty when you dress nice."  
"What's that supposed to mean, you lush?" Faye couldn't help but smile.  
"I dunno." Spike stared at his toes for a while.  
"Spike, let's go home. It's late, and we're toasted."  
"Kay," he said, making no move to get up.  
_Shit. I'm not carrying 135 pounds of lunkhead to the Redtail **and** driving his ass home. I don't care how much of a sweetie he's been. He's gonna be one mean mother fucker in the morning, that's for sure.  
_"Come on Spiegel, up and at 'em." Faye slapped his shoulder to try and get him upright. Finding this to not work, she rummaged in his pockets while chatting at him to keep him awake.  
Finally, she found what she was looking for. The walkie talkie. "Jet?" she queried.  
No reply.  
_Oh God, I'm too drunk to deal with this, and too sober to not care. This has to change._  
She dug around in her purse until she found the flask she had liberated from a passed out guy at the bar. Unscrewing the top she smelled some top-notch whiskey that would conveniently take away any shred of responsibility she felt. She took a few gulps and sighed contentedly as the whiskey burned its way to her stomach.   
A cool hand insinuated itself into hers and removed the flask, bringing it to its owner's lips.  
"Spike, you're too drunk as it is."  
"Never." He took a long draught.  
"Gimme that!" Faye snatched the flask from his hand and downed the rest, which wasn't all that much after what he'd drunk.  
_I probably shouldn't have done that. Oh God, how am I getting home?_  
Faye sat back and let the whiskey erase her worries, and lit a cigarette. Spike yawned and stood up slowly, swaying back and forth as he did so. He turned and looked at her with drunkenly, glazed over eyes.  
  
"Faye?" he slurred.  
"What?" she asked, tiredly  
"How're choo."  
"Drunk off my ass," she replied, realizing that the rather large amount of whiskey she had just downed was starting to hit her quite rapidly.  
Spike giggled. "But choo're sitting _on_ your ass!"  
Faye snorted at the absurdity of the situation, then waved her arms at Spike...well, one of him. There seemed to be several.  
"Help me up fuzzhead, we've got to go back to the Bebop."  
Spike unsteadily leant down to help her up, and miscalculated his drunkenness. He pulled her upright, and promptly sat down again, his momentum pulling Faye on top of him. "Heehee. We're back to square one, aren't we?" Spike grinned lopsidedly and looked up into her face.  
"Yeah..." Faye breathed, looking into his mismatched brown eyes.  
They stared at each other for a few moments, transfixed by each other's gazes. Something clicked, and they started slowly to lean towards each other.  
"You think we shou-" Faye paused.  
"No."  
"You want to-"  
"Yes."  
  
It wasn't your average kiss, for sure. It's hard to call a kiss average when it takes place in a parking lot, on the asphalt under a ship, while both participants are extraordinarily drunk. But it was one hell of a kiss.  
"Spike?" Faye gasped when they pulled away from each other. "We'll never speak of this again, shall we?" She couldn't believe she'd actually kissed him. God, he was an irritating little brat, but what a kisser.  
"Mm no. You're a good kisser." Spike smiled, his eyes shut, and he promptly fell asleep.  
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Author's Notes:  
Aand . .the end! . . of chapter four that is! This one took a while longer, because I couldn't get satisfied with the end here, so it got re-written about a jillion times. Who knows, I may re-write it again . . . anyhoo, thanks y'all for your reviews, and my wonderful beta-editor Lady Athena (who has a great story on a roll, named Developments, which you ALL should read!)  
Now, a glass or five of wine to celebrate!  
Cheers,  
Malia  



	5. Chaser

As always, although I much wish that I did, I do not own Cowboy Bebop's characters, nor will I ever (although I own the DVDs). Hope you like my story, which I do own!  
  
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Chapter Five: Chaser  
  
"Oh god, bring me some coffee and some morphine, will you, Jet?" Spike groaned as he sat up slowly on the sofa, trying to ignore the intense throb of his head. 3 pm. Jesus, what a fucking hangover. He couldn't remember drinking that much in a long time. Probably because the drinks were on Ed, he thought, ruefully. He rubbed his temples in a futile attempt to assuage his headache.  
"No coffee for you; the acid will make your stomach do cartwheels. Here's some bread to soak up the acid, some water to help the dehydration, and some pseudo-acetaminophen to help the headache." Jet grinned toothily and tossed the packet of aspirin to Spike who swallowed it gratefully. He picked up the bread with distaste and started chewing on it. "Thanks, O Gaol-keeper Jet, for my meager ration of bread and water. Where's everyone else?"  
"Ed appears immune to alcohol, lucky kid. She got up around ten and calibrated the engine computer and has been manually defragging the navigation computer the rest of the day." Jet shook his head in wonder, before saying, "She's an amazing kid. And as for your rescuer-"  
"Wait, _rescuer_?" Spike looked incredulous.  
"-she's still asleep in bed."  
_Rescuer? What happened? I don't even remember leaving the dance club._  
"She didn't rescue me," Spike snorted, feigning knowledge of the situation. "I was too drunk to fly."  
"Like hell. You sure were too drunk to fly. She dragged your ass back to her Redtail and flew you home. You were out colder than a fucking rock. You're just lucky she didn't leave you in the parking lot to get mugged. You should be nicer to her."  
Spike scratched the back of his head thoughtfully as he chewed, his eyes screwed shut against the bright sun, swallowing the dry bread in hopes that it would alleviate some of the odd gurgling sounds his stomach was currently making. At some point in the future a prairie oyster was in order.  
A groan from the hallway alerted Spike to the presence of his now conscious "rescuer" from the night before, as dubious as that title sounded to him.  
"Jet," Faye moaned plaintively, "please shoot me right now and make the pain end. Oh god, what an incredible hangover." Spike smiled faintly at the similar word choices they both had when they regained consciousness.  
Jet chuckled at his friends. "You two are totally hopeless. When will you ever learn not to drink so damn much?" He sat on the sofa next to Spike and lit a cigarette, inhaling slowly.  
Faye oozed her way into the living room and dejectedly plopped down on the chair facing the sofa. Spike stood and handed her the leftover bread and the glass of water Jet had given him. She took the water and waved away the bread, covering her eyes with the back of her hand to shield her throbbing head from the bright light that streamed in from the observation room.  
"Hey, Spike."  
"Hey, Faye."  
"How're you this morning?"  
"Afternoon."  
"Whatever."  
"Like shit; yourself?"  
"Agreed."  
"Listen, I'm going to do you a favor since you flew me home. I'm going to make you a prairie oyster."  
"Thanks, I guess. They always looked pretty foul. But whatever works, hey?"  
"Indeed."  
Spike stood and began walking to the kitchen, before turning to survey the living room. Jet was perched nervously on the sofa, smoking rapidly and jiggling his leg, while Faye attempted to hide her head in her arms to block the sun. What a crew. But something serious was up with Jet. Was his old girlfriend-turned-bounty still bothering him? Spike told himself that when he felt more human he'd find out.  
He found Ed in the kitchen, on one of her frequent food raids. She looked at him brightly and hugged him, much to the chagrin of his various aching body parts. "Ed had fun last night! At least," Ed said, while frowning down at the floor, " I think I did. I don't really remember. What about you?" Her smile returned, and she looked back up at Spike's haggard face. The smile faded rapidly. "Spike, you okay?"  
"Yeah, Ed, I just think you were a little too generous with the drinks last night." He reached out and ruffled her hair fondly. She was still wearing her outfit from the night before...  
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_**"Ed is not too sure about this."**_** The thump of boots was heard in the hallway. Spike and Jet peered curiously towards Faye's room as the gangly teenager emerged.  
_"Oh shush, Ed, you look nice."_  
She was wearing...Spike's clothes.  
_"Why is she wearing all of my stuff?"  
"Because she can't wear any of mine. She's three inches taller than me and built like a beanpole."  
"You look nice, Ed,"_ Jet interjected.  
_"Thank you, Jet-person."_  
A change had been wrought with Ed's skinny frame. She was wearing one of Spike's wife beater undershirts, a puffy gray vest, some of his black pants that had been rolled up at the cuffs, and some..._  
"Combat boots?"_ Spike looked at Faye quizzically.  
She shrugged. _"I'm a shoe person. I bought those back when I was going through a more, um, industrial phase. They fit Ed for some unknown reason, so I figured she could have them."_  
Somehow Faye had tamed Ed's wild mass of hair and washed the spiking glue out of it, leaving it a fuzzy blue mop that lay mostly limp around her ears, as if worn out by the constant effort of trying to be unruly.  
_"Well, Ed, I think you look like a hacker supreme." _Spike smiled. Nice to see that someone besides him could look decent in his clothes.  
_"Yay! Ed is glad Spike person is not mad at Faye for her rifling through his room and finding his naked people magazines!"_  
Spike glared at Faye and promised himself that he would yell at her later. Perhaps after a few drinks he could get himself riled up enough to start a good fight...  
**------------------------------------------------------  
Spike walked out of the kitchen with two glasses and a playful smile. Faye wouldn't know what to expect, so he had taken a few liberties with her prairie oyster. No sense wasting a good opportunity to pull a prank. What did it matter that jalapeño juice wasn't normally part of a prairie oyster? He handed her the glass and downed his quickly before she could notice the distinct color difference. She sniffed at hers suspiciously and then chugged it, grimacing at the aftertaste.  
"Well, that was as disgusting. But it was to be expected." She got up and walked slowly to the bathroom.  
Spike gaped. How could anyone not be bothered by huge quantity of jalapeño juice he had put in her glass? He suddenly had a newfound respect for Faye's digestive system.  
  
Jet had sat through the entire episode, tapping his leg nervously, chain-smoking. Something was definitely up.  
"Jet, what's bothering you? You've been sitting in a stony silence for 20 minutes now."  
"Nothing, I'm just thinking."  
"About Petria, aren't you?"  
"And so what if I am? This doesn't concern you in the same way it does me."  
"Jet. This concerns me needing to eat. This does not concern you anymore. She fucking left you." Spike knew it was a low blow, but something had to be done.  
"You don't think I know that? You don't think I feel abandoned? You of all people should understand being abandoned. That you realize one day someone doesn't understand how you love them." Jet smiled humorlessly as he stared at the end of his cigarette.  
Spike looked at Jet. Yes, of course he knew. He knew the hurt it caused when someone walks out on you. When someone takes your trust and uses it against you. But none of that mattered to him anymore. He had gotten over Julia. He told himself that he did. But had he really? Spike shook his head to clear it of the confusing feelings he felt flooding it, and turned once more to Jet, who sat morosely on the couch.  
"Jet. What are you afraid of?" Spike asked softly.  
"I'm not sure. Maybe I'm afraid of what she's become. Maybe I'm afraid of what I've become."  
"Jet, what've you become? You've got the best set of morals I've ever seen, and a loyalty that's unshakable."  
"I'm for hire."  
"Aren't we all?" Spike lit a cigarette and watched his friend. Jet had seemed to age ten years in the last half hour. Spike sighed and sat down next to his friend.  
"We have to find her. Yes, I'll admit I want the bounty, but I think you need some closure. I had closure for Julia, even if it almost killed me. I'll help you find closure for Petria. God knows you've done enough for me to warrant my help. I'll do my damnedest, Jet."  
"Thanks, Spike. I'm still not sure what I'm going to do when I find her."  
"Finding her is the first step."  
"That's true." Jet ground out his cigarette and stood up. "How are you feeling?"  
"Not as bad."  
"Want some breakfast?"  
Spike looked up at him with a grin. "Nah, that'd make me feel worse again."  
Jet smiled slightly at his friend's attempt to cheer him up, rolled his eyes, and headed towards the kitchen.  
Spike lay back on the sofa, his almost spent cigarette dangling from his lips, pondering the events of the last ten minutes.   
He fell asleep thinking of what Julia might have thought about Faye.  
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Rar. Well, that's all for a little bit. I had a nice case of the ol' writer's block for a while . .but it went away (yay!). Welly, I'm going to be on spring break soon (I go home in a week), and midterms before that, so that could either mean no writing at all, or a plethora of stuff. We'll see how it goes.  
Thank you all my reviewers *sniff* I love you all!  
And as always, a thanks to my beta-reader, Lady Athena. (subliminal message to you all: _ read her story 'Developments'_)  
Cheers everyone!  
Malia  



	6. Runner

As always, although I much wish that I did, I do not own Cowboy Bebop's characters, nor will I ever (although I own the DVDs). Hope you like my story, which I do own!  
  
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Chapter 6: Runner  
  
Faye loved her showers. Nothing calmed her down like standing under that scalding stream, letting the water make little rivulets over her bare skin. Nothing, except maybe spending the day on the ratty yellow sofa with a mushy novel and a bottle of something. Imagine then, how irate she was, when she discovered that the shower was cold and that the said sofa, was occupied by the man who had used all the hot water.  
She raged her way into the living room and rat tailed a towel before hitting Spike across the stomach with it, dropping that and her other towel on his head. She stood, fists balled, growling, daring him to get up. He lazily picked them up and casually draped one over the back of the sofa, folding the other one up before putting it over his face.  
"Smells nice," he said, voice muffled. "Thanks, Faye."  
Hearing the infuriating lazy smile in his voice only made her madder. She launched herself over the sofa and dragged Spike upright by the lapels, the towel falling onto the sofa. He pretended to sleep, smiling amusedly as she shook him, yelling exasperatedly, "Dammit, Spike!" This was great. He didn't have to do anything to piss her off. No work, all play.  
Finally, with a snarl, Faye tossed him back down on the sofa and stalked up the stairs. She turned to see Spike's thin arm waving goodbye to her, with a faint voice, muffled from the towel he had replaced over his face, "Thank you, come again."  
In a huff she turned on her heel and sailed off to her room to have a good sulk and a stiff drink.  
  
Four or five hours later she heard a soft knock at her door. She groaned in reply. The door opened and a tall, thin silhouette entered and sat down on her bed, looking curiously at the snowy static that covered the television screen. She had been watching her video again. Spike sniffed the air. _And drinking._  
"Faye, you drink too much."  
"And you talk too much. Besides, I drink to forget."  
"Why forget when you're just starting to remember everything?"  
"Because everything I remember reminds me that I have nothing. All my friends are dead. My family is all dead, and died thinking I was dead all along. I don't have my real name, and the name I do have is burdened with debts and bounties. All I own is either in this room, or in the hangar. I'm tired of remembering that my life is worthless. I'm tired of being reminded that I have nothing. I'm tired of knowing that I should keep running." She sighed heavily and leant tiredly against the wall. "I'm tired of running. I'm tired of not knowing where I belong, who I can trust, and who I can love. I'm tired of being me. That's why I drink." She groped for her bottle and brought it shakily to her lips. Spike watched quietly as she drank a couple of gulps then handed it to him. He took a swallow and then set it down out of her reach. When he looked up, Faye's head was buried in her hands, and Spike could hear the ragged breathing of someone who was crying.  
Without a word Spike got up and went to the kitchen, returning shortly with some paper towels. He awkwardly offered them to Faye, who looked up from her tear-dampened fingers with shock. She sniffled and took the crumpled wad from his hands, and proceeded to honk into it loudly. She looked up at him, uncertainly with a small hiccup. He smirked and took the paper from her hands, and went to go throw it away in the garbage.  
He sat back down on the bed and looked straight into her eyes. Those deep green eyes. _Those haunted looking eyes._ "Feeling better?"  
"I guess. More numb, at least. Why do you care?"  
He shrugged and sat back against the wall her bed was against, lighting a cigarette before offering her one. She took one uncertainly and accepted his offer of a light. Inhaling deeply, he closed his eyes before answering, "I figured we should probably stick together since Jet's gone."  
"He's wha-?"  
"Left a few hours ago, I'm guessing. I came out into the living room after a workout to find a bowl full of noodles and a note saying 'Take care of the girls' and one of Ed's smilies. I'm assuming that by 'girls' he meant you and the Bebop."  
"We can't just let him leave to go find that madwoman!"  
"We have to, Faye. He needs this. God knows I pulled the same stunt with you guys. Besides, he didn't take his communicator."  
"But he'll get himself killed!"  
"I highly doubt that. Jet's much more sensible about this stuff than I am. Besides, he's got Ed to take care of."  
Faye smoked quietly for a moment as she stared off into space. Then, brusquely, she turned and pointed the burning end of her cigarette at Spike. "This still doesn't explain the sudden niceties. Spill, Spike."  
"What?! I can't be friendly?"  
"Spike! You deliberately piss me off every fucking day! You've never spontaneously been nice! Why start now? Did you suddenly, magically fall in love with me?"  
He threw his ands in the air. "Faye, accept this as a gift from Jet, if you can't deal with it any other way, alright? I promised him I'd help him in any way I could for him to get closure on this issue, and if that means taking care of you and being nice to you, then that's what I'll do!"  
"Huh!" she snorted. "I knew it couldn't come from the goodness of your little heart, what there is of one."  
Spike took a vicious drag from his cigarette, then tossed it out the door into the hall. "Oops, I dropped my cigarette. I'd better go retrieve it," he said, sarcastically. He stood up and picked up the scotch, taking a gulp from it before moving out into the hall. He returned, a few minutes later, much calmer and notably cigarette-less. He rubbed his eyes before saying, "Look, Faye, I'm going to try and be friends with you if it kills me-no, let me finish," he said, seeing Faye's mouth open. "For Jet's sake and for our own, we need to try to get along. We'll go nuts if it's just the two of us sparring all the time. Besides," he said, smiling mischievously, "I'll starve if I don't have someone to cook for me. Whaddya say? Truce?" He held out his hand to Faye, who goggled at it as though it were a diamond ring suddenly found in the couch cushions. Finally, she put her hand in his.  
"Truce," she said, quietly.  
"Now that's something I'll drink to! Come on, let's get some of those noodles!" He held out his arm to escort a still baffled Faye to the living room.  
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**_"Well, kid, you've got talent. That I can see. I'm lookin' for ambition too. You got any of that up your sleeve?"_ The small, middle-aged man squinted down the alley, trying to pick out which of the dark blotches was the skittish youth he saw fight a few minutes ago.  
_"I do indeed,"_ came the faint, echoing reply.  
_"Let me take you back to headquarters and get you fixed up and fed. You can talk to the elders when you're in better shape."  
"I'm in fine shape. A meal, however, would be much appreciated,"_ came the voice as a thin shadow detached itself from the wall and approached the stocky man.  
_"What's your name, boy?"  
"Spike Spiegel. And I'm hardly a boy."  
"Odd name; I like it. Mao Yenrai."  
"Thanks."  
"You do this often? Attacking people in alleys?"_  
The young man chuckled dryly._ "As little as possible. I'm a small-time thief and part-time arms smuggler, so I try to stay away from groups. I guess these guys somehow got wind of a shipment of explosives and thought I was the guy with the cash. They wanted to beef their way in. Too bad for them my jackass of a foster father had me trained in Jeet Kun Do."_ He spat on the ground. _ "Only good thing the bastard ever did."  
"Arms, smuggling, eh? I know a little about that. I don't suppose you've heard of the Red Dragons, have ya, kid?"  
"Oh haven't I, old man? Everyone and their brother wants to be a member of the most powerful syndicate on Mars"  
"How old are ya, kid?"  
"Almost 21, old man."  
"Touché. I think you'll get along well with Vicious. You're about the same age. Julia is going to go bananas over you. She always did over those kung-fu types."_  
Spike smiled quietly to himself. This was working out well.  
**------------------------------------------------------  
"Quite surprising, I'd say."  
"What, that Jet left us with an edible meal before he ditched us to traipse across the solar system to look for some psycho bitch?"   
"No, that you've been quiet the whole damn meal."  
"I thought you were trying to be friendly?"  
"I am. That's just an observation."  
"Hmph. Quit while you're ahead."  
"Faye? You really think I'm attractive?"  
"What?!" Faye looked up, startled, a noodle hanging from the side of her mouth as she gaped at Spike. A slow flush crept over her cheeks. "Uh-I-er, that is-" she sputtered, before hastily swallowing her bite. She stared hard at the floor as she said, "Well, yea. You're a handsome man."  
"Hm."  
"Hm?! I just bared my soul to you, and all you can say is 'hm'? Well, do you think I'm attractive?!"  
"Sure. You've got boobs. By default, you're attractive."  
"That's not what I mean."  
"Sure it is. Are you physically attractive, that's the question, right? Faye, you're an attractive woman. There, I said it."  
"Thanks, lunkhead. And on that note, I'm going to bed."  
"Alright, sleep well Ms. Hotpants."  
"Don't push your luck."  
"You know it."  
Faye snorted and turned out the light.  
------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Yaa! Done! Midterms tomorrow, then Spring Break! Wahoo! I would've finished this earlier but I had the personal relationship week from hell. No joke. Anyhoo, zat's all for now, but expect much much writing to come out of me from my 2.5 hour plane ride home (if I don't sleep).   
All my reviewers *sniffle* I love you so! Thanks so much, it means a lot to hear y'all say you like my writing.  
Thanks again to mine Beta reader, Lady Athena (read 'Developments'!!)  
Also, on an entirely unrelated note, check out www.casshern.com, which is the site for a very cool looking Japanese film. Check out the trailer! (in Japanese, sry!)  
ADDITONAL NOTE!: I have a new little project that I'm working on. It's purely an 'Ed' project . . . and it's a parody of one of my favorite childhood stories. So stay tuned!  



	7. Sunrise Suicide

Cowboy Bebop and its characters are not mine to own. They are a creation of Shinichiro Watanabe and Sunrise. This story is a creation of my own, and I hope you like it.  
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Chapter Seven: Sunrise Suicide  
  
Consciousness came slowly to Spike, as it always did. He had never found himself to be a morning person. Jet, however, had been a morning person, so Spike usually woke to coffee.  
Faye, it turned out, was not a morning person either, and the only coffee to be had was at least a day old, cold, with an odd sheen on it, giving it the appearance of engine oil instead of something drinkable. Spike could tell that it would be a tremendously, stupendously long day. With an inhuman groan Spike stumbled groggily from the kitchen to the nearest horizontal surface, in this case the sofa, to continue sleeping until somehow coffee appeared. He failed to notice that his stomping around had brought Faye to the scene of the crime, still steaming from her hot shower. She watched bemusedly as Spike lurched towards the sofa single-mindedly, half awake.  
"No coffee, lunkhead?"  
"Hargmpf." Apparently words were impossible without the introduction of caffeine into his blood system. Spike was still in his pre-cognitive stages without coffee.  
"I see. No, no, stay up," she said, seeing him turn towards the sofa again. "I guess I'll have to make some since you seem incapable."  
Faye padded down the hallway, her hair up in a towel, her body wrapped in a ridiculously maternal looking dressing gown. After much coaxing she managed to get the coffee maker to produce the much-needed elixir of life. She sugared and milked a mug for herself before carrying a pitch black steaming cupful out to Spike, who had fallen asleep against the bulkhead. "My god, he sleeps like the dead," Faye mumbled to herself seeing him snoring contentedly. She attempted to push the mug of scalding liquid into his hands but they remained limp as he continued to snore. Unfazed, she dipped his index finger into the brew, the hot coffee jerking him awake.  
Faye smiled. "Coffee's on."  
Spike looked at her with unfocused eyes, a mixture of pain, shock and sleep clouding them. He blinked a few times then smiled and took the cup from her hands wordlessly before upending it and chugging the cup, his throat apparently unaware of the temperature.  
He lowered the cup with a sigh of pleasure. "Ahhhh. You make a mean brew, Faye. Must be the cause for your bitter innards and bad attitude." He gave her a crooked smile and ducked as she cuffed the back of his head.  
"Yea, real nice to see you're awake too, you asshole."  
"Always a pleasure, milady." He bowed comically, making Faye giggle at the sight of the scrawny man in boxers and a T-shirt with serious bed-head bowing stiffly.  
"So what're the plans for the day," she began, regaining her composure, "now that Jet's gone and ditched us?"  
"I dunno," Spike said, easing his morning cigarette out of the pack and sucking on it thoughtfully before lighting it. "I guess we could go make some pocket cash to get food and cigarettes with."  
--------------------------------------------

**_"Hee hee. If Mao didn't tell me you were spectacularly good at Jeet Kun Do I wouldn't think you'd be able to harm anyone. Especially with that head of hair. You look like you should be a pop star or something."_ The tall blonde woman giggled shyly at the thin young man who sat on the sofa of the dimly lit room slurping noodles with great fervor. He gave her a wide grin and a wink and set about finishing his bowl of food. Sitting back on the sofa he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and looked at her with raised eyebrow. She waved her hand in a gesture of acquiescence and he pulled a cigarette out and lit it artfully in a single fluid gesture. He studied her face. This must be the famed Julia that Mao had told him about. She seemed to be about the same age he was. He wondered what had brought her there.  
Julia blushed at the intensity with which Spike stared at her._ "Don't look at me like that."  
"Like what?"   
"Like a piece of candy. It makes me nervous."   
"I can't help it. I'm just wondering what a sweet looking young woman is doing in this den of dragons."  
"Same thing you are. Making a living." _She turned and started to walk to the door. _"I'll tell Mao you're ready to see the elders."  
"Thanks."  
"Spike?"  
"Yes?"  
"I'm really not so sweet as I seem."  
"I hope so."_ He gave her a lazy lopsided smile and blew a smoke ring in her direction before winking again. She giggled and walked out of the room blushing.  
Life was turning out well.**  


--------------------------------------------  
"Ed thinks that the Hammerhead needs to be more comfy and sleep-able on."  
"Oh hush, Ed, we're nearly to Ganymede. Two more gate jumps after this one and we'll be there."  
"Does that mean that Ein and me get dinner soon?" Ein yapped, either affirming the imperative nature of food, or cringing at Ed's grammar. Jet wasn't sure.  
"Ein and I. Grammar, Ed. Grammar is important if you plan on speaking in the first person." Jet couldn't believe he was discussing grammar with an insane eighteen-year-old.  
Ed brushed the remark off. "But is there food?"   
Jet chuckled at Ed's persistence, and the picture of an unlikely trio they made. "Sure. If you promise to try and work on that grammar."  
"Hooray! I'll try!"  
  
Jet smiled to himself as he stared out the cockpit window as the streaks of hyperspace flowed by, and dipped into a reverie, thinking about his decisions of the past few days. He hoped he could sort everything out in time to find Petria and get back to the Bebop before Spike and Faye killed each other, or worse, started getting along. But as he thought about it more, he realized he didn't care. The Bebop was a repository for all the memories people tried to escape from. It was the ship he used to get away from his former life as an ISSP detective. It was the ship that both Spike and Faye had used to start new lives. This was Jet's chance to regain his past, instead of trying to escape into a bleak and uncertain future. Spike had done his best to reclaim his, as had Faye. This was Jet's chance to succeed where they had failed. His chance to regain a future with Petria. He sighed mournfully as he remembered times when happiness could be taken for granted.

Petria. What an otherworldly being she had been to him. He was the embodiment of gumshoe when they'd met; smart and earnest, but a little clumsy and naive. She had a catlike grace and a sense of detachedness towards the world around them that he found fascinating, but she was still immersed totally in her work, no matter how ethereal she seemed to get. She showed him the ways of the world and he gave her compassion, trust, stability, and love. Those were things rare to find in members of a secret police force. They had been perfect together. He helped keep her in the real world, and she helped him to find his sense of playfulness. Since she had left he'd lost it for the most part. Ed's loud mumbling in her sleep about wontons jerked him out of his daydream. He smiled ruefully. Well, at least he had found someone else to show him how to find his playful side again.

After yawning and rubbing his eyes for a few seconds, Jet looked up to see the Ganymede hyperspace gate grow larger in the Hammerhead's view field. _Home at last._ Jet shook his head. Bebop had been home for so long it was hard to think of it as anything other than his permanent home. But an Old Earth saying drifted into his head, "Home is where the heart is." And he had most definitely left his heart on Ganymede. Twice in fact.

The Hammerhead rattled and shook as it passed through the gate, automatically slowing to enter the tollbooth. Jet read the balance on his money card with a worried frown. "Ed, we're not going to have much food. I haven't got a lot of woolongs to spend on us. Well, if things get too bad I can always go pick up that bartender in Blue Crow that claimed he had a bounty on his head. Probably the poor bastard's wife." The surface of Ganymede grew nearer with each passing moment, and with it, Jet felt a mixed sense of hope and dread. _Here is my last chance. _

--------------------------------------------  


Author's Notes: Whoo. Sorry that took so long, guys. I guess I'm less productive during my vacations than I thought I was. I'm still not quite sure where I'm going with this, so as I try and decide the plot direction, chapters might take a little longer to be produced. . .just a pre-emptive warning.

Odd little coincidence happened while writing this. During my bouts of writer's block I worked on an essay for a humanities class I'm taking. We're reading Roman Myths. . . and as I start to transcribe from notebook to computer Jet's conversation with Ed about approaching the Ganymede gate . . .I look down at my book, only to see the myth about Ganymede. Heh. 

Well kids, thanks for the reviews, thanks to my luvverly beta reader Lady Athena, and until next time . . 

Cheers!

Malia


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